Years ago, for an assignment in Myra Cohn Livingston‘s class, poet Joan Bransfield Graham came up with what she called a Mirror Poem form.  It was a brilliant and simple: midway through the poem, reverse the order of the words.

Recently, Marilyn Singer’s wonderful book, Mirror, Mirror: A Book of Reversible Verse takes this form to new heights.

In a starred review, Booklist says, in part: “The…poems…allow changes only in punctuation, capitalization, and line breaks, as Singer explains…“It is a form that is both challenging and fun—rather like creating and solving a puzzle.”

This felt like a wonderful form in which to say good-bye to Poetry Month.  Good-bye and thank you for reading these poems. Your eyes, your comments, mean a great deal to me.
x
Check out this week’s Poetry Friday post at TeachingAuthors.com… and keep in mind that I usually include an original poem when I post there, which is every other Friday.

It’s your turn! Try a reverso!  Read the examples on the Miss Rumphius blog, above. Then start your engines!  And write with joy.  I know you will.

Yesterday I was feeling so tired.  So unmotivated.  So unanything.  Everything weighed in, pressed down–like a dead elephant on my head.  At the end of the day, I realized that it was connected to the fact that I was helping to list autographed books for author Brenda Novak’s FABULOUS on-line auction for diabetes research (which includes books, gift baskets, trips, concerts, jewelry, critiques by well-known authors and much more)
x

So many wildly successful authors. So many golden lives.  And my book needs yet another rewrite.  Yes, oh, yes, I was comparing their outsides to my insides. I knew it.  Still, that insidious hopelessness crawled in and made itself comfortable.
x

It helped tremendously to identify why I was feeling so low.  Just articulating it to myself helped. Then a fellow writer texted, in part: “It’s all smoke and mirrors, Sweet Friend!  And when I see you, I’m delighted at God’s Party Dress!”  Ah, the balm of friendship—when I’m brave enough to share.

Now it’s your turn.  What are you feeling right now?  I felt as if there were a dead elephant on my head.  What visual metaphor can you include in a poem to make us feel as you do?  Who are you brave enough to share this poem with?  Do.

I was at the dog park, watching Eli sidle up to a new dog. They stood side-by-side, looking in each other’s eyes.  Their tails began to wag—slowly, at first, then faster.  It reminded me of the old metronome my mother still uses.  And it made me laugh.

I thought, “I have no time, I’ll write a haiku.”  HA!  Haiku poems are deceptive.  As Mark Twain famously wrote, “I didn’t have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead.”

There are lots of rules regarding haiku.  The first and third lines contain five syllables, the second line, seven.  They aren’t supposed to rhyme.  They should indicate the season of the year.  They should be about something in the natural world. They should be in present tense.

I wrote 13 versions…and could have written for days.

It’s your turn. Go outside.  Observe something in the natural world.  Read haiku poems.  Write a haiku or two.  Enjoy!

Okay…first read this poem:

THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;

Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight’s all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

Here’s my poem for today:

My friend, Alison McGhee emails a poem of the week.  I love this.  Just enough to read.  Just enough to absorb.
x

Today she sent THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE.  I’ve read it many times before but today I decided to take it apart and see how it was made.  I suppose my process is like a seamstress who takes apart a dress so she can see how to make one like it.

I worked out the rhyming pattern.  I analyzed the rhythm of each line.  I read it aloud to my dog, Eli.  Then I chose my topic and sewed my own dress from Yeat’s pattern.

It’s your turn.  Choose a favorite poem.  Take it apart.  Write your own.  And for heaven’s sake, enjoy!
x

Our folk club’s newsletter is called The Cat ‘n Banjo.  Rick has edited it for the last seven or eight or ten years.  A long time. Now he’s stepping down.  How does one thank a volunteer who has worked for so many hours to connect us to our music and fellow folkies?  In a poem, of course!

I thought about how to “come at” the poem.  I imaged a blank, lined piece of paper, then ants, marching onto the page carrying words and placing them on the page.  Who knows where these weird images come from?  But these days I don’t question them.  I go with them.

Now it’s your turn! Is there someone in your life you need to/want to thank?  Can you stand on your head, coming at the topic from a different angle?  Give it a try.  Enjoy.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The story behind the poem:
X

I was listening to Prairie Home Companion on NPR and though I’d never heard it before, I couldn’t help but join in on a one-stanza hymn with a wonderfully addictive melody, “Lord, Listen to Your Children Praying”:

I wrote my own version of this simple song to sing with friends at the next folk music club meeting.

It’s your turn!  Look up the lyrics to a favorite song.  Being mindful of its rhyme pattern and rhythm, change the lyrics to fit an occasion or circumstance in your life.  Have fun!

I was reading through the poems in the marvelous POETRY TAG TIME, edited by Janet Wong and Sylvia Vardell, which is “the first ever electronic-only poetry anthology of new poems by top poets for children,” sells for only 99 cents…and includes one of my poems, (she says modestly). Helen Frost‘s poem begins, “Wake up!” while Calef Brown’s poem begins “Are you a”.  I decided to start my poem with,“Wake up!  Are you a” and see what happened.

It became a poem filled with the half-dreams you have when you fall asleep in class and wake, only to fall asleep again.  So I reread “Jabberwocky”, from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carroll…and the poem evolved.

It’s your turn! Nonsense poems are foreign territory for me—I had such fun writing this one! Begin your poem as I have…or find your own intriguing first words—where do they lead you?

x